


Flowers from Our Homeland

by byeolbitchin



Category: Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Celebrity Crush, Childhood Friends, Dating an Actor, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Meeting Again, Motherly Plotting?, New York City, Normal Life, Romanian Characters, Romantic Friendship, ish?, poor Romanian translations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-01 20:09:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byeolbitchin/pseuds/byeolbitchin
Summary: Sebastian's neighbor and childhood best friend, Nadia Stoica, from Constanta comes to NYC for business and they reunite for the first time in two decades. So much has changed and somehow little at all.





	1. Familiar Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have written little to nothing for this but I may as well try it out. TBH, writing RPF for Hollywood celebrities makes me a tad uncomfortable because their lives are more personal and I sorta feel like I'm snooping or intruding, but someone suggested it a while back and it's been festering away in my head for months, so I thought I'd give it a shot.
> 
>  
> 
> Nadia's visual inspiration is Romanian Blogger Danielle Marcan just FYI.

It's evening in New York City when she arrives, all tired eyes and aching bones. The arrival gate of JFK International airport is crowded with groups of people exiting, pushing luggage carts, pulling along their suitcases. Nadia Stoica stretches, bones creaking, back arching, strained muscles unfurling now that she's no longer camped out in an airplane seat. Businessmen, students, couples, and even a few families file passed her out of the automatic doors, but the woman waits.

Glancing around anxiously, the thirty-three year old Risk Analyst wrings the handle of her suitcase. The brunette takes a moment to gather herself, bending over to tie the laces of her white sneakers and adjust the white tee shirt tucked into her textured skinnies she's [wearing](http://i.picorator.com/fOYgB.jpg). [The Romanian beauty](http://i.picorator.com/WG3k9.gif) stands a few meters from the automatic doors, tucking her duster cardigan closer to her slim frame, sneaker clad foot tapping against the linoleum with tired apprehension as she awaits her company appointed escort.

Born and raised in beautiful, seaside Constanta, Romania, Nadia had worked at the local Citibank before being chosen for a promotion in Bucharest. When offered the higher corporate position she jumps at the opportunity to move to the Capital. A few years later she's a Risk Analyst at the Bucharest HQ, being offered the position of Global Risk Manager with the condition she completes the 2-year training program. Of course she can't turn down another such opportunity, even if attending the program means spending the next two years eight thousand kilometers (give or take) from her home.

Which is how she finds herself waiting at the Newark Liberty International Airport arrival gate; nervous, exhausted, and longing for either a cup of coffee or the welcoming embrace of a mattress. Her two hour and forty minute flight from Bucharest to Frankfurt had gone off without a hitch, she'd arrived in time for a late lunch of Schnitzel with buttered vegetables and Kartoffelsalat. Her layover had been only two hours, giving her time to stretch her legs before the long haul to America. Nadia sleeps very little on the plane, even with the eight hours and fifty minutes before she would arrive in New York. Instead opting to take advantage of Lufthansa Airlines' in-flight wifi to study her destination city and go over the details of the training program she would be participating in.

"Nadia Stoica?" Calls a middle aged man, dressed in jeans, a button-down top, a blazer, and a newsboy cap. The brunette raises her hand timidly, smiling when her escort grins and introduces himself. Kindly offering to take her luggage, he leads her out to the company provided vehicle and welcomes her to New York. He spends a great deal of the thirty minute drive to Greenwich Village talking about the city and asking Nadia about Romania and her life there. By the time they arrive at the apartment provided to her by the company, she's completely worn weary and ready to hit the sack.

The West Village is a convenient place to live, even without access to a car. [Her Greenwich apartment](http://i.picorator.com/UozI4.png) is a gorgeous one bedroom, not far from the location where she'll be attending her training course. The walls are painted a soft cream color and the floors are a beautiful, glossy wood laminate. Her living room is spacious, with a lot of natural light, let in by a massive panel of windows on the far wall. The apartment comes furnished. The kitchen comes stocked with all of the table and cookware she may need. Adjacent from the kitchen threshold, in the living room, is a small, four seater table.

A tiny coffee table anchors the center of the room on a plainly colored area rug, between a tv stand with a huge flat screen, and a coral colored couch, decorated with colorful throw pillows. An oddly designed lounge chair sits across from the coffee table, and a massive blue ottoman anchors the farthest corner of the rug. The bedroom is roomy, but simple, with nothing but a queen sized bed and a small desk, as well as two doors that lead respectively to the walk-in closet and the restroom. It's a quaint, comfortable space, the only thing left for her to do when she arrives is unpack her suitcase and the moving boxes she'd sent ahead, but she's much to exhausted for that. Nadia only manages to cut open a single moving box, fish out a specific package, and dress the provided mattress in the bedding she'd brought along with her.

Lying on her side, cozy in her comforter, the brunette finally recalls that she should keep her friends and family up to date. With her bleary eyes and exhausted bones, the woman connects her cell phone to the wifi (making a mental note to go out and purchase one that she can use while in America), she opens her texting app and drops a message in the group chat letting her friends know that she'd arrived safely to her apartment without trouble, before dialing up her mother on Google Hangouts. It takes a couple tries before the older Romanian woman gets it, but eventually Nadia is greeted by video feed of her parent's faces.

Her mother, Maria, worries over her as usual and demands to know every detail of her long trip to America. While her father, Ioan, wants to know about her apartment and her neighborhood. She's happy to tell them all about it, assuring her mother that her travels had gone without a hitch and her father that she would send pictures to ease his worries. Nadia can tell they both miss her terribly. She'd lived away from home, in Bucharest, for several years, but that isn't the same thing as moving across the globe and she knows that her friends and family are likely to have heard the horror stories. Nadia surely has, of women going all by theirselves to the Big Apple and the experience becoming a nightmare. Luckily, her first day in New York had gone smoothly enough.

Her mother at least, is comforted by the proximity of her life-long best friend, Georgeta. A lovely woman and long time friend of Nadia's parents. She and Maria had become close friends when their children were young and Georgeta had still been a single mother living in Constanta, renting the apartment across from them with her son. Eventually, after the Revolution, the pair had moved abroad a couple times. Remarrying and ultimately settling in America, not far from New York City, but she and Nadia's mother remained close despite the distance.

Which is how Nadia ends up blinking awake to the sound of a Google+ call from an unknown number. _Georgeta O. Fruhauf calling_ flashes over the screen and Nadia is quick to answer the call of her mother's best friend. " _Alo?_ " the young woman answers cautiously, voice rough with sleep and eyes bleary as she sits up in bed.

" _Buna, Nadia floricică!_ " Greets the older woman, calling her by her nickname since childhood, little flower. " _Buna seara, Tánti,_ " Nadia replies in return, " _Ce faceti?_ " And so, Georgeta begins to tell her about life since they'd last spoken to each other, her ever successful son, and what things the younger woman could look forward to in New York City. Thankfully though the older woman is considerate. Georgeta asks about her trip from Bucharest, how she's fared since arriving in the city.

" _Doriţi să ia prânzul împreună mâine?_ " Asks the older woman good naturedly, sounding excited at the prospect. " _Ştiu un restaurant bun._ " Nadia doesn't have the heart to turn her down, Georgeta is a sweet lady, who'd been kind to her when they'd been neighbors back in the homeland. Not to mention having someone she knows nearby may help her to better settle into American life. " _Mi-ar face plăcere._ "

Georgeta begins to rave on a line of good restaurants in the city, listing the food types and locations. Eventually, after learning Nadia's address, the older woman decides upon Le Pain Quotidien's West Village location. The young woman easily agrees, never having been there before, but happy that her mother's old friend is trying so actively to accommodate her. Satisfied with their plan making, the two women bid their farewells and end their call.

As Nadia gets ready for bed, digging out her night clothes and something to wear the next day, Georgeta is across the city dialing up someone as she pads back and fourth around her condo in excitement. _"Alo?"_

" _Alo, fiule!_ " she greets, teeming with delight, " _Esti libera miine?_ "

  
The next morning Google Maps assures Nadia the restaurant Georgeta had chosen is merely a simple five minute walk from her apartment. Situated on the corner of Hudson and Perry Street, Le Pain Quotidien is a Belgian brunch chain nestled in the heart of the West Village, as well as numerous other locations around the city.

The little brunette makes her way the five blocks, clad in a simple and classic ensemble, the weather clear and kind that bright morning. The birds sing and the sun shines, not a cloud in sight, as Nadia practically skips along, following the screenshoted directions on her receptionless cell phone. She turns from Christopher Street to Bleeker, passed West 10th and Charles, onto Perry Street, making it to the restaurant before their scheduled meeting time of 10:30 with still a few minutes to spare.

Georgeta is already present, seated inside not far from the ordering counter but away from the windows. Nadia bounds over, nervous but happy to finally see a familiar face. The older woman greets her like a child of her own, rising from her seat, arms outstretched and bright smile painted on her aging face. Nadia's struck by the difference for an instance, not long enough to notice, but enough for the younger to mentally remand herself.

Two plus decades has changed them both, she's reminded, when lovely Georgeta cups her cheeks and inspects her fondly. " _How you've grown,_ " she's told in their native tongue. Nadia grins and leans in to press a kiss to each of Mrs. Fruhauf's cheeks in the typical European greeting. How she's missed this woman. The pair spends a short while chatting, catching up on the years that had passed, the things that had changed, the ways they'd both grown— and of course about Georgeta's son.

Eventually they get up to place their orders. Nadia has a granola parfait of oats, greek yogurt, banana, and fresh berries along with a cheese almond danish, and a cup of café au lait. Her companion orders a great deal more. A prosciutto, ricotta, and fig tartine with a cup of fruit, and a cappuccino. Smoked salmon and hard-boiled eggs with avocado toast and an iced latte. As the food is brought to them, Nadia wonders how the elder woman will manage consuming it all.

" _I have a surprise for you,_ " Georgeta tells her, old world accent heavy on her tongue as she tucks her cell phone back into her purse after reading a text. " _Someone's going to be joining us._ "

Not five minutes later Nadia's companion is waving at the entrance, bright smile illuminating her face. The younger woman tries to catch a glimpse, but the booth seats are tall, she's short, and whoever their new addition may be, they're a fast walker.

" _Mamă,_ " Calls a welcoming voice, deep but soft, comforting. Nadia nearly falls all over herself, realizing instantly who their mystery guest is and kicking herself internally for not seeing this coming.

Long legs quickly bring him to their secluded little both and the man in question hugs his mother, kissing her cheek before turning to Nadia in what appears to be genuine surprise. He looks well, [dressed](http://i.picorator.com/LHqkD.jpg) in simple jeans, a tee shirt, and leather jacket. He's much taller now, slim and fit, and handsome, but she'd known that already. How couldn't she? When he's in a major film series, plastered on numerous magazine covers back in their home country, when he's the nation's pride and joy, one of the few professionals representing Romania in the business.

Towering over her is Sebastian Stan— childhood friend, first love, famous Hollywood Actor. His steel blue eyes are wide in astonishment, the color of ice or the Atlantic Ocean she'd flown over on her voyage. A soft grin twitches over his plush mouth, recognition blooming across his face, his cheeks drawing round as he grins, those pretty eyes crinkling. "Nadia?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (poor) Romanian Translations:  
> *Alo - Hello, reserved mainly for the phone  
> *Buna - Hi (informal)  
> *Floricică - Little flower (Nadia's nickname)  
> *Buna seara - Good evening  
> *Tánti - Auntie  
> *Ce faceti - How are you? (polite)  
> *Doriţi să ia prânzul împreună mâine? - Would you like to have lunch together tomorrow?  
> *Ştiu un restaurant bun - I know a good restaurant  
> *Mi-ar face plăcere - I'd love to  
> *Alo, fiule! - Hello, my son!  
> *Esti libera miine? - Are you free tomorrow?  
> *Mamă - Mom, Mother (though that's pretty clear)
> 
> It's safe to assume that whenever two Romanian characters are speaking and the dialogue is in italics, that they're speaking Romanian to each other, but I thought I should clarify just in case. 
> 
>  
> 
> So, Important Note:  
> I'm working through some stuff lately, which is why I haven't been updating or writing period. But, this has been bouncing 'round in my head for long enough, so we'll see how it goes. Don't expect long or frequent updates though. Usually writing helps me work through shit, but lately it's just been making my funk worse. Maybe I'll keep up with this, maybe not— probably not, but here's to shots in the dark. Thanks for reading though!


	2. Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before I grew up I saw you on a cloud  
> I could bless myself in your name and pat you on your wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the slightest bit confident about this tbh, but it's giving me something to do... So here's chapter two.

It's near midnight when Sebastian's phone rings and his mother's number flashes over the screen. Groggy, but still mostly awake, he rolls over to answer the call, " _Alo?_ "

" _Alo, fiule!_ " Greets his mother, Georgeta, her voice raw with excitement, " _Esti libera miine?_ " She asks if he's free the next day and luckily he is, for the most part, aside from training with Don and the crew in the morning and a cast meeting for a film project in the late afternoon.

It's not unusual for them to make plans when he's in the city, especially considering how much he's off on location for various projects. It is, however, out of character for his mother to make sudden plans on such short notice. " _Good, good!_ " His mother exclaims, seeming more and more pleased as the conversation develops. " _I have plans in the Village tomorrow and was hoping you could join me for lunch._ "

Georgeta's never been quite so excited about lunch before, but Sebastian shrugs it off. Perhaps she has news or things have been going better than usual, either way he makes no comment on it. Whatever it is, his mother is happy and that's good enough for him. "Sure, _Mamă. Sună bine! Unde?_ "

Sebastian wakes at almost exactly seven the next morning, for a more leisurely approach at working out than he usually does with his so called _Gym Mafia_. He eats a bowl of oatmeal and has a protein shake before making the short trek to Astor Place Station and arriving at _X Drive_ on Broadway by 7:30.

The club is a buzz with numerous gym-goers when Sebastian arrives. A little fuller than he prefers, but he pays no mind and quickly falls in line with his trainer, Don, and the rest of their little work out group. The routines are grueling but they pay off and he manages to have fun with his pals before it's 9:30 and the session is over.

Hitting the shower and cleaning himself up, Sebastian changes into the [street clothes](http://i.picorator.com/vp44M.gif) he'd brought along in a duffle bag. A plain, white tee shirt, a pair of fitted jeans, and a leather bomber jacket. After taking a little time to make sure his hair is coiffed just so, he bids his friends farewell and makes the five minute walk to the Canal Street station before hopping the 1 train for the West Village. It's a twenty minute trip, but he arrives at Le Pain Quotidien a little after 10:45.

A little late, Sebastian's sure his mother won't have minded waiting. The tall brunette peers in, looking for his mother among the seated patrons inside the restaurant. Entering, he spots her waving hand shoot up from a booth in the far corner. Waving back with a grin, he makes a bee line for their seat.

" _Mamă,_ " calls the thirty-four year old as his mother springs out of the booth to greet him. Sebastian leans in to hug her, planting a kiss on Georgeta's cheek before pulling apart to settle into the booth across from her. Sitting in his intended seat, is a mystery guest. Genuine surprise fills Sebastian as he takes in the new addition to their brunch date.

  
There sits Nadia Stoica before him, a stranger. Twenty six years between the little girl he'd left in Constanta and the woman sitting in the booth across from his mother. From his view the seated woman has filled out attractively, her hair grown out long and dyed to a soft ombre at the ends. She's [dressed](http://i.picorator.com/7h1kW.jpg) in a charming floral blazer and a classic, black, pleat dress. She looks grown up, simple yet elegant beyond what he could have imagined from the rambunctious girl of his memories.

The decades had done her well. He can barely comprehend that the pretty brunette could possibly be his best friend of eight years old. The adventurous pip squeak that liked to traipse barefoot across the beach, calling his name over her shoulder, her freckled cheeks marred with dirt and her tiny feet caked with sand, wild flowers in her hair. " _Floricică, is that really you?_ " The actor asks, his Romanian accented, but familiar.

Nadia is struck too, though not by his change in appearance. After all she'd seen him over the years, on screen, in his films and television shows. She and her family— and the country— had watched him grow from project to project, gaining popularity with each new role. But, seeing him in person is another matter. Nadia is a little embarrassed, though she wouldn't admit it, to feel starstruck at the sight of him. She'd known Sebastian for years; remembered the little boy that used to chase after her playing tag, used to build castles with her and bury her in the sand, who'd tucked flowers behind her ears.

" _It's me._ " Nadia laughs, standing up to give him a shy hug. He's taller now than she'd anticipated, even with her standing, and the way his arms engulf her whole is a little startling when he leans in to return her embrace. She kisses his face in the routine fashion that she would greet anyone she knows and is annoyed with herself when she comes away with pink, burning cheeks.

Georgeta grins in a pleased manner, scooting over to make room for her son at the table and making no mentioning of the near automatic chemistry between the two thirty year olds. The trio falls into easy conversation; his mother joking about their rowdy youth, their closeness when they were younger, teases about the physical changes the two had went through since those two decades passed. Nadia almost feels as if little time had passed at all.

Still sassy, playful, and good natured, Sebastian is still the same kind boy who'd been her best friend those twenty six years prior. He'd just gotten concernedly more handsome. He'd always been a pretty child, even when he'd but on a bit of baby fat, but the man sitting across from her has Nadia avoiding direct eye contact. Sebastian is even more good looking in person than he'd been in his films. So much in fact, that she's a little taken with him, especially being reunited for the first time in ages only to find him to be devastatingly charming. The woman curses herself internally and does her best not to come off as too admiring.

If Sebastian knew of Nadia's sentiment he would have solidly shared her feelings. He, himself is a little taken by the woman sitting across from him and his mother as they eat their brunch. The petite brunette has grown so much in the time since they'd parted. As to be expected in the amount of twenty plus years. Still, they'd been young when Georgeta and Sebastian had left for Vienna and though his mother had shown him photos of Nadia from time to time, he'd never considered whether or not she was attractive. Being only eight, the thought was furthest from his mind at the time.

But, now they sat across from one another, twenty six years in the making, and Sebastian couldn't keep himself from innocently observing. Looking at the pretty brunette across from him, he tried to imagine how she'd grown into this person from the tiny freckle faced little girl what was always running barefoot wherever she went. The tangled brown mop that he remembered, now soft long waves that flowed down over her shoulders to the middle of her back, dyed in a soft ombre what took it from her natural dark brown at the roots and lighter as it went.

Sebastian observes her long, thin nose covered in little freckles that continue under her bright bright hazel eyes and along the top of her cheeks, and the little beauty mark situated on her cheek, diagonal from the corner of her plush mouth. That day Nadia [wears](http://i.picorator.com/WG7Ha.jpg) little makeup, aside from a nude eye shadow look, filled in brows, and a nude colored lipstick that matched her natural lip color. Even with her minimal makeup she looks lovely and it has him a little flustered. Eight year old Sebastian would never have imagined his best friend becoming so pretty.

Before any of them know it, it's nearly 1 PM and Georgeta announces she has a beauty appointment in just fifteen minutes time. Both her son and Nadia find themselves disappointed that they'll have to part, even having spent nearly three hours together. The young woman fights the frown from her face, resolving that they'd have to go their separate ways and she would have to get on with her new life as a Manhattan transplant with minimal assistance. At least knowing they'll be there to lean on from time to time is assuring though.

" _Do you know your way back dear?_ " questions Sebastian's mother as they're getting ready to part ways. The latter smiles, nodding softly, " _I think I can figure out the way back._ " Georgeta gives her a worrying grimace and so Nadia begins to insist.

" _I can walk you,_ " Sebastian offers, " _How far do you live?_ " The petite brunette is admittedly a little hesitant. He's a celebrity, he's got to be an unspeakably busy person.

" _By Christopher Street Station,_ " she begins to answer, " _But I can—_ " Sebastian cuts her off, " _That's right on my way,_ " He insists. Nadia's eyebrows become pinched despite the soft smile on her face. " _Really, I have a lot of errands to do today._ "

Sebastian grins, bending his elbow and offering his arm to her, " _I've got time._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (poor) Romanian Translations:  
> *Alo - Hello, reserved mainly for the phone  
> *Alo, fiule! - Hello, my son!  
> *Esti libera miine? - Are you free tomorrow?  
> *Sună bine - Sounds good  
> *Unde? - When?  
> *Floricică - Little flower (Nadia's nickname)
> 
> Remember that dialogue in italics are spoken in Romanian meanwhile non-italicized dialogue is in English (like when Sebastian said "Sure" earlier. It's safe to assume that whenever two Romanian characters are speaking, they're speaking Romanian to each other.
> 
> Still not feelin so hot about this one tbh, but it's giving me something to do.


	3. Not an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mindfuck

After a very confusing exchange, it would appear that the ff user who first alerted me of a work being stolen mistook me for another author. So it appears to have been resolved. But since we're already here, I'll make the mandatory pledge. If any of see my works under any other handles but plotbunn1es or sojunari, please let me know. I'm very glad that things were resolved and no one is actually stealing from me. I probably should have waited to here back from the messeger before freaking out and startling everyone. Sorry for jumping the gun on my part. Either way it seems to have taken care of itself.


End file.
